


Breathe (one-shot)

by killjoy_assbutt



Category: The Witcher (TV), Wiedźmin | The Witcher - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate universe - Mafia, Big Brother! Jaskier, Dom Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia, F/M, Gentle Dom Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia, Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia Smut, Mob!Boss Geralt of Rivia, Mob!Boss Jaskier, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-23
Updated: 2020-03-23
Packaged: 2021-03-01 03:35:11
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,247
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23278696
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/killjoy_assbutt/pseuds/killjoy_assbutt
Summary: just a little modern mafia au i had in my head. so far a smut one-shot, dunno if i'll continue. (continued as different work)arranged marriage between reader and mob!boss GeraltY/N is the daughter of a mob boss, kept out of the business, growing up as her daddy's little girl. when Y/N and Jaskier's father dies, another clan starts to invade the Pankratzes' terratorium. an arranged marriage to Geralt of Rivia is the only way to save both of the families' businesses from the new clan.Y/N is ok with that, her fiancé is a handsome man, the only problem is: Y/N is very shy, and literally unable to breathe, evertime she meets Geralt's eyes. he has an idea how to fix that.
Relationships: Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia/Reader, Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia/You, Jaskier | Dandelion & Reader
Comments: 2
Kudos: 106





	Breathe (one-shot)

I had never expected for it to go like this. Even though family was important in our business, marrying for love was rarely a given. I had always thought that I would be spared. I have always been my ‘daddy’s little girl’. He kept me out of the business, so I couldn’t know that my family was on the brink of ruin. Now that he was dead and my older brother Julian - nicknamed Jaskier – was in charge – struggling to find his footing – another clan was pushing us back, out of our territories. Yes, us. Not only my family was affected by this new clan. The state was divided into two halves, one run by my family, the Pankratzes; the other half was run by my future husband, Geralt of Rivia.

This leads me back to him. Every thought that I have leads me to the same thing – or person. Him.

Our marriage is more or less arranged. Jaskier had suggested that should our families unite we could push back the new clan. Who suggested that it would be best to do so through a marriage I didn’t know, but I know that somebody set us up. Well, Geralt had told me on our very first date. I am not complaining, even though I feel like I’m too young to marry. I just turned twenty-one, while my fiancé was at the end of his twenties. The age gap doesn’t bother me, but thanks to how my dad treated me my entire life I still don’t really feel like an adult.

But I could also have it so much worse. My fiancé is, luckily, a total sweetheart – at least to me. This is not usual for a mob boss, especially not for one who took over for his father at the age of nineteen. He is also very handsome, not that I pay too much attention to that, but it’s a perk having a caring AND handsome man at your side, who will also become the most powerful man in the state someday. He is tall, at least 6’ 1”, making me – with my 5’5” – feel tiny every time I stand next to him, and – uh – let’s say, well trained. He has long silvery-white hair – weird for a man of his age, but, I don’t know, I found that extremely sexy. Strong jaw and cheekbones made his face look like chiselled to perfection by the gods themselves – and it probably was. And his eyes, oh his eyes. Every time I look at them I forget how to breathe. The intensity of his stare made my lungs stop working. Like literally, I have to look away if I don’t want to suffocate, if only that wasn’t so hard. They were golden, like liquid honey. I drown in his eyes. Every. Single. Time.

That is another reason I’m not so sure about the wedding; I’m still in the phase of the relationship where I blush and giggle at everything he says, not able to look at him for too long if I wanted to breathe. I like him, maybe even love him already, but I still feel like we’re moving too fast; our entire relationship developed within the last two months!  
He on the other hand is so confident, about our relationship as well as his business, but he leaves me my space, realizing that I am not completely ready. He doesn’t force me to do anything –we only ever kissed twice – and I was thankful for that. I said he was sweet.

But he was also oh so authoritarian. Ever since we got engaged, my brother let me participate in meetings of the two bosses, because, the way Jaskier saw it, as a mob boss’ wife I had to at least know what was going on in our territory. Geralt, to me, seemed like he would rather I remained in that bubble of innocence, but he respected my wish to be informed about the business. It was the reason I had to marry him so early in our relationship after all. 

So, back to the meetings… they argued a lot, but never too serious; Jaskier being inexperienced and acting how our father would want him to, and Geralt all professional and knowing full well what to do. And oh gods, when he spoke all serious about the business, or to his men, it made my innocent virgin mind wander places my father would be very disappointed about; but what can I do? That handsome man’s deep voice booming through the room, telling my brother to let him handle the situation, that he knew what to do. Ugh. It made me clench my thighs together, and as this happened a lot, by now I knew he noticed. I saw it in the little side-glances he gave me then, trying to supress a smirk but failing. When that happened I would realize that I had been staring, lower my gaze to my lap or shoes and blush violently. And he knew full well what he was doing to me.

We were over at his house now; the three of us in his office, for a change not discussing business, but our upcoming wedding. It would be in a few weeks at Geralt’s residence. 

Part of me was excited. I couldn’t wait to finally be his. Another part dreaded the day I would be married off to a man I barely knew. This combination made my head spin.

All of the sudden the murmur of conversation stopped. 

“(Y/N)? (Y/N)!” I heard my brother’s voice calling out, ripping me from my trance. I looked up at him to see both men staring at me, expectantly. Jaskier had his arms outstretched to his sides in a questioning gesture standing in front the big desk, while Geralt sat behind it in his chair, still so tall and broad, facing me, arching a perfect eyebrow. My breath hitched at the sight and I felt so tiny sitting on the office couch.

Tearing my eyes from my fiancé to my brother I just shot him a questioning look. He pinched the bridge of his nose, fed up with my lack of concentration. “Your dress…” he sighed exasperatedly. Geralt only smirked, knowing that whatever the exact reason I was not paying attention, he was big part of it.

“Oh, err, yes… my dress. It arrived yesterday, along with the shoes and the jewellery. Everything fits perfectly,” I stuttered out, hoping it was the answer he expected. Jaskier sighed, letting his shoulders drop and turned to face Geralt. It wasn’t the answer he wanted.

“Oh, we know, sweetheart,” my fiancé’s voice rumbled through my entire body, making me shiver slightly. I looked at him, signifying that he had my attention, but not meeting his eyes, not wanting to suffocate. And when he looked at me with his brow arched like that I sure as hell wouldn’t be able to breathe. “The question was,” he continued, a cocky smile on his lips, again knowing full well what he did to me, “if or when you’ll bring it all over, seeing that the wedding will be held here, meaning you will also have get ready here.” He explained it as if I was stupid.

“I-I’ll have it brought over here tomorrow,” I tried to sound confident but failed miserably. This man’s effect on me made me want to hate him, honestly, just that I couldn’t. Usually I wasn’t a girl to be at a loss of words – in any situation. But around him my mind often went blank.

“No offence to your men,” Geralt spoke up again, directed at Jaskier. “But,” he turned his head back to me, “would you really trust anyone else than you with this important task? I have heard that women tend to be very sentimental about their wedding dresses.” There was something else behind his suggestion, but I couldn’t quite figure out what. Was it desire? Lust even? Was he tired of waiting?

My thoughts were interrupted by a knock on the door.

“Come in,” Geralt’s voice boomed.

The door opened and two men entered, holding a third between them. The third man was blindfolded and struggling against the other men’s grip, a bruise forming on his jaw as blood trickled down his nose and lip, staining the grey carpet.

Geralt knitted his eyebrows together. This simple change of his expression made the gorgeous man look intimidating already.

“Very sorry to interrupt, Sir. We caught him stealing goods,” explained one of the men. 

Geralt sighed and rose to his feet. “Get him to the basement. I’ll deal with him once I’m done here.” His voice was cold. It made me recall why his men called him ‘The Butcher’. He may be sweet when it came to me, polite when he talked to my brother, but when it came to business he was coldblooded.

The men nodded and dragged the thief behind them, leaving the room.

Geralt spoke up again, warmth returning to his voice as he addressed my brother and me. “I’m afraid we have to cut this short. Seems like I have … business to attend to.” He walked over to my brother shaking his hand. “Sorry I can’t show you out. Goodbye, Julian.” My brother returned the farewell and then Geralt walked towards me. I rose to my feet at his approaching, only to almost fall back as he stopped less than a foot in front of me. I lowered my gaze, but he lifted his hand to place his thumb and index finger under my chin, forcing me to look up at him. He stared down into my eyes, smiling when he heard my breath catch in my throat. 

“And we’ll see each other tomorrow, my sweet,” he whispered, the low rumble of his voice making me shiver as I struggled to breathe. He chuckled at that and leaned down to press a kiss to my cheek. I felt my face burn as he stepped back. “Good night, darling,” he said sweetly as he led me to the door, a hand on the small of my back, making my skin tingle, Jaskier following. 

“Night, Geralt,” I breathed out, not trusting my voice to be louder.

Jaskier led the way towards the big entrance of Geralt’s mansion. Behind us, I heard his steps echoing on the stone floor as he made his way towards the basement.

Once we reached home, it was late and I went to my room immediately, undressed and fell into my bed, not bothering to put on pyjamas. I fell into a dreamless sleep.  


When I woke up the next morning it felt as if only minutes had passed since I got into bed. Stretching and yawning, I dragged my feet over the floor towards my bathroom and got ready for the day. I got into the shower and thought about today. I was nervous. This would be the first time in a while that it was just Geralt and I, alone. What would happen? What were his plans? Surely not getting the wedding dress and everything to his place, I could bring that stuff when I got there on the day of our wedding. So, why was he so keen to get me come over?

Stepping out of the shower, I spread my favourite lotion on my freshly shaved skin, hoping it would moisturise it enough not to form dry spots or pimples as my skin usually tended to. Once I was completely done getting ready I collected everything I would wear at the wedding and made my way towards the garage. I picked the SUV, hoping it would be big enough to transport everything wrinkle-free. In the kitchen, I found our driver and told him which car.

“We’ll leave at noon,” I told him and went back to my room. 

My nerves were now fluttering. There was no turning back from what was going to happen in two weeks, no delaying. A few minutes before noon I got up from my bed and gave me a once-over in the mirror. I looked and smelled good. This fact gave me a little confidence. I smiled and made my way to the garage once again, bumping into my brother on the way.

“Text me when you’re there.” Was all he said before continuing his way to his office. After a few steps, he stopped and called out for me. “Hey! And don’t do anything I wouldn’t do,” he added with a wink.

I blushed and looked to the floor – there was little he wouldn’t do. I kept walking and soon enough reached the car.

“Where to?” asked the driver.

“Geralt,” was all I managed to say, now that I couldn’t hide from my fate anymore. It was not that I didn’t like him, or didn’t want to marry him, but the thought of only the two of us alone… I don’t know. I was scared to embarrass myself in front of him. He could be intimidating; both in the violent way – as I was just reminded yesterday – but also because he was so much more experienced than I was. I grew up sheltered, was home-schooled, never had contact to men other than my family and our, err, staff. He on the other hand sure must have had a fair share of relationships.

“Ma’am, we’ve arrived.” The driver’s voice ripped me from my thoughts.

“Thank you,” I whispered as I texted Jaskier that I had arrived safely. “Can you wait here? I’m sure it won’t take long.”

“Sure, Ma’am. Do you want help with the dress?”

“No.” I gave him a smile through the rear-view mirror. “I’ll be fine by myself.” Or, at least I hoped so. I pulled the clothes from the trunk and made my way towards the big entrance door. The door opened to reveal on of Geralt’s men. With an ‘Allow me, Ma’am’ and ‘follow me’ he took the garment bag from me and led me inside, up the big, modern staircase, along a long corridor. He stopped outside the door at the far end, knocking.

“Enter.” I heard the familiar voice call out.

The man opened the door and mentioned for me to go in. “Sir, your fiancée,” he announced from behind me.

I stepped into the room. The first thing I noticed was the large bed; not the owner of the voice that had me knees weak, who was standing by the equally large couch in front of a modern styled fireplace, no. It was the bed. We were meeting in his bedroom! It made my nerves flutter.

Geralt only chuckled as he walked towards me, stopping right in front of me and reaching out for the man still standing in the doorway, taking the dress from him. My breath hitched at the proximity.

“Thank you,” he directed at the man, who then left, shutting the door. 

“You’re staring.” I heard him chuckle yet again. Making me flustered was a game to him, I suppose. I wasn’t staring at him, though. I was staring at the bed.

“Wh-why are we i-in here?” I stuttered out, “Th-the whole house is-is yours. Why the bed-bedroom?”

“Hmm, sweetheart. I think you know, given you can’t stop staring,” the deep rumbling voice filled the air.

I finally tore my gaze off the bed and to the owner of the voice. “You said you’d wait.” My voice was small. I had put the boxes of shoes and jewellery down on the couch table, while Geralt had put the garment bag away into the closet.

“Yes, I know. I did. But that was before I saw you clench your legs at everything I say, sweetheart.” He walked towards me and grabbed my face, gently but determined, lifting my chin to meet his gaze. “And yet, you can’t look me in the eye.”

His eyes were dark now, a mischievous glint in them, but also lust. I felt my breathing stop. He smirked. “Hmm, I can see why.” But he didn’t let go of my face, forcing me to stare back at him. When he finally let go I tore my eyes off him, panting heavily. 

He chuckled. “And I haven’t even touched you yet. You need to breathe, sweetheart,” he teased.

“I can’t,” was all I was able to choke out, still breathing heavily from the lack of oxygen.

“We’ll see about that.”

I dared to look up a little, my eyes meeting his lips. They were stretched into a smirk. This man, I swear! One of his hands held my chin again, gently tipping my head back until our eyes met. My lunges refused to work. I felt a warmth hover above my breast, as Geralt searched for a sign for him to stop in my eyes. There was none. I wanted this, wanted him, but my body refused to work with me, frozen by the sight in front of me. When his hand finally met my breast I gasped, the breath catching in my throat, not reaching my lungs. 

“Hmm, let’s try this again,” Geralt rumbled deeply, “If I drop my hand, will you keep looking at me?”

I nodded as much as I could with hand still on my chin. Then he dropped it, running it down my back and lower… I gasped aloud when he squeezed my bum, air finally filling my lungs.

“Ahh, there we go. Good girl.”

His praise made me blush and I was about to lower my head as his hand came up again, stopping me.

“You are so cute when you blush. I can’t wait to make you mine.”

Heat pooled in my belly at that and I clenched my thighs together, blushing even harder.

“Mhh, seems like you can’t wait either.” He squeezed my breast harder and I gasped again. "But first we need to fix your breathing.”

He let go of me and stepped back, even turning around as I was breathing heavily. Once I was breathing normally again he turned back to me.

“Do you trust me?” I nodded. “Words.” His voice was stern, causing the heat in my belly intensify and my panties to dampen.

“Yes.”

“Lay down. If you want to stop, say so. Got it?”

I was about to nod when I remembered his command. “Yes.”

“Good.” He led me around the couch table and guided me to sit first, then pushed me gently to lie down as he knelt above me, his eyes never leaving mine, not once.

“Sweetheart, I’m going to pull your trousers off now, okay?” his eyes were full of concern now, but also lust, still. 

“Uh-huh,” I mewled, short breaths leaving and entering my lungs now.

He did as he said, tearing his gaze off my eyes and towards the exposed skin in front of him. “Hmmm, lace panties. You knew this was gonna happen, huh?”

Finally being able to breath I answered, “Well, I suspected...”

Then he pulled them down and off my legs, exposing my untouched pussy to him and the cold air of the room. Yes, untouched, well… mostly; I, uhh, I rarely touched myself, the risk of somebody bursting into my room at any given time way too high for me to give in to pleasure from my own hand. I did it only four of five times in my life. So, yeah, untouched.

He inhaled deeply at the sight, his eyes darting to mine, as I watched him, too captivated at the sight to turn away.

“You’re so wet,” he breathed out, his hands reaching forward to palm at my thighs, inching inward, parting them wider for him. Then he crawled up my body, eyes never leaving mine until we were on one level. His eyes tore off mine when he lowered his gaze to my lips, and I did the same, watching, as they got closer and closer until they finally met in a gentle kiss. The contact of my exposed lower half with his slacks though made me gasp into the kiss. Geralt’s opportunity to slide his tongue into my mouth, exploring. One of his hands wandered down my body, squeezing my still clothed breast and then continuing to my aching heat.

He broke the kiss to stare into my eyes, leaving me breathless once again, as he slowly sank one finger into my tight, wet heat. I took in a sharp breath at the unfamiliar intrusion, causing the man above me to smile. “You’re breathing,” he muttered as he pushed his fingers back and forth inside me. Oh no, I wasn’t only breathing, no. By the time he added a second finger, he had me panting beneath him, all while keeping eye contact. When I felt his thumb brush over my most sensitive spot I cried out, unable to remain quiet anymore. A pressure was building in my belly and my hips rutted against Geralt’s hand involuntarily. I moaned out, the pressure becoming too much for me. My legs were shaking and my hands were gripping onto whatever they could reach. 

“Good girl. Cum for me,” the deep voice cooed from above me, all I could see were his eyes, those beautiful golden eyes, before my vision went white. The pressure burst, my whole body tensing and twitching as I was filled with enormous pleasure. I cried out, his words sent me over the edge.

As my vision cleared, I could see Geralt above me again. He was smiling proudly down at me. “See, you can breathe, even while you look me in the eyes. Wasn’t so hard, was it?”  
He was right, I was breathing now while staring into his eyes, panting even. He had laid down between my legs while I came down from my high, careful not to crush me, but wanting me to feel his weight on my body, his power. Something was pocking my thigh. I giggled.

“No, but something else sure is.” I wiggled my hips against his bulge, causing him to groan. The pressure of his hot, hard, and – what felt like – huge member, along with the sweet sound my movement elicited from him, lit the fire inside me once again. I felt weirdly confident now after being completely vulnerable underneath him, seeing which effect it had on his body.

“Okay, that’s it,” he said, more to himself, as he sat up and pulled me with him, tugging on my shirt off my body as he went, leaving me sitting in my baby pink lacy bra, matching my panties. His movements were quick. He reached behind my back and undid my bra, flinging it I-don’t-know-where.

Then he picked me up and threw me down on the bed. I bounced as my body hit the soft surface, staring at him wide-eyed as he ridded of his suit. When he pulled off his dress shirt, revealing his toned chest and stomach, I forgot everything we had just achieved in the last ten minutes. My breathing stopped at the sight of his pecks, abs and biceps - I was pretty sure I was drooling – and at the way they flexed when his hand moved to push down his slacks and boxers in one go. I gasped when his member sprung free, long and thick, as it stood proudly against his stomach.

My legs widened instinctively, my body acting on its own, exposing my glistening, wet, waiting heat to the man before me. Though, I was not sure if he was going to fit.  
“Good girl,” he praised as he walked towards the bed, taking his time, teasing. He crawled up the bed, settling between my legs, his hot and hard member nudging against my inner thigh, close to where I needed him. I rolled my hips against him, desperate for some friction. He leaned down to suck on my neck and reached out to his bedside table. I heard a drawer open and close, and then he sat up again, catching my gaze, his face serious despite our arousal.

“Are you sure you want to do this?” he asked, his voice sweet but just as serious as his face.

“Uh-huh,” I nodded, my brain too clouded from the sight above me to form a proper thought besides that I wanted him.

Geralt smiled a little and rolled his eyes. “Words, sweetheart. I need words. You’ll be a lot of work, I can see that already,” he muttered the last part more to himself.  
Finally able to form a response I breathed a ‘yes, I need you’, spreading my legs wider for him for emphasis.

He rolled the condom on his – I’ve never seen a naked man before, so I had no idea what was the average, so to me he was enormous – member, and leaned down to capture my lips in a sweet kiss before pulling back.

“I’m not gonna lie, this will hurt. If you want me to stop or go slower, tell me,” he muttered against the skin of my neck, right at my pulse point – he probably felt how fast my heart was racing at this point. I looked into his eyes and took a deep breath – proud of myself that I was able to do that now – my hand touching the back of his neck, my fingers tangling in his long, silky hair. He pushed my leg to rest against his hip and guided his length into my aching core. He pushed in slowly and I yelped out in pain. He was right, it hurt; oh and how it hurt. He was barely inside me, only a few inches, but the stinging sensation as he stretched me, farther than his fingers could ever prepare me, brought tears to my eyes.

His eyebrows twitched. He looked almost guilty as he halted his movements, giving me time to adjust. “Shh, you’re doing amazing. Just relax. Breathe. Yes, just like that,” he encouraged me. I nodded a little, signifying for him to continue, and he pushed further in. 

“Shit, you’re so tight. Fuck,” he almost hissed.

“No,” I panted out, “You’re just so big.”

Probably we were both right… he was large and I was, well… a virgin.

He leaned down to kiss me again, forcefully, making my head spin, and sheathed himself inside me with one quick thrust of his hips. I cried out into the kiss and his lips left mine, kissing away all tears that managed to spill from my eyes. 

We remained like this for a few moments, kissing until the stinging ebbed away and was replaced by hunger. I needed some friction. How was he not going crazy by now? I rolled my hips up, and Geralt caught onto my drift immediately. He pulled his hips back a little and pushed back in, slowly. The feeling was unfamiliar but not uncomfortable, and I pushed my hips into his, a small moan escaping my lips. Geralt pulled back again and after a few careful thrusts, he picked up the pace. At first, I was trying to meet his thrusts, but as he grew faster, I found myself unable to. Soon enough one of his hands wandered down to my hips, pinning it in place as he drove into me roughly. I let the beast of a man above me work as I clung on to him, hoping I was making him feel just as good as he was making me. My hand was still buried in his long locks, tugging at them from time to time, causing him to groan as he sucked hickeys along my cleavage, while my nails raked down his back, surely leaving marks. I was a moaning mess under him, struggling to keep my eyes focused on his, or even open. But his stare was so intense as he fucked into me that I couldn’t look away. As he noticed me struggling, though, he slowed, his thrusts becoming deeper instead, but never losing their force. The head of his member brushed over an especially sensitive spot inside me and I cried out in pleasure.

“Found it,” Geralt let out a strained chuckle as my walls clenched around him. He concentrated on hitting that point within me, my moans rising in pitch as my walls continued to clench around his impossibly hard, pulsing length. I dug my nails into his skin as the pressure in my belly grew rapidly. He shifted a little, his pubic bone now brushing against me clit with his every move. A few more slow and deep thrusts, stimulating both my clit and my g-spot, all while his tongue worked on my breast was too much for me. The pressure was threatening to burst. My walls quaked around his pulsing length. I was close.

“Come on. Let go. Come on my cock.” A voice grunted hotly into my ear and my eyes shot open. When had I closed them? Doesn’t matter…

As my eyes opened they were met with Geralt’s beautiful golden ones, the intensity of his stare along with his words and the sensation of him still moving deeply inside me made me lose it. I clenched hard around him, crying and moaning out, chanting his name – the only word I could remember right now. White-hot pleasure engulfed me as I felt him halt above me, groaning deeply as I felt him swell inside me, shooting his load into the condom.

He collapsed on top of me, catching himself on his forearms not to crush my shaking and heaving body. We were both panting as he kissed me sweetly on the lips before rolling off me, pulling out in the process. I whined a little at the loss of him, suddenly feeling empty, incomplete. He pulled off the condom and threw it away in the bathroom, then laid down next to me and pulled me onto his chest. I was still dazed from the two mind-blowing orgasms I had, absently playing with the soft curls and tracing the scars on his chest.  
“That was amazing,” Geralt panted out. “You did so good, sweetheart, took me so well.”

I blushed at the praise. He did all the work; I didn’t do anything besides letting him feel how good he made me feel. Suddenly I was overcome with tiredness, supressing a yawn. My fiancé chuckled, pulling me closer to him. We laid in comfortable silence for a while, enjoying each other’s company. I think I even dozed off for a few minutes – when he spoke up all of the sudden, even though it was only a whisper, I was startled.

“Stay with me.”

I was confused. I had done no attempt to get up. My tired brain didn’t quite understand what he meant by that. “I wasn’t going t-“

He interrupted me. “That’s not what I meant,” he chuckled at my confusion. “Stay. Move in with me. I don’t think I can wait two more weeks. I can have your stuff brought over by tomorrow. And I’m sure your brother would agree with me that it would be best for our relationship if we lived together before the wedding, getting used to each other.”

He was right. It would be better if we spent more time together, alone. Hell, if he hadn’t insisted on me coming here today I would have suffocated on our wedding day.

“Mhhh, yeah. Okay,” I hummed, snuggling even closer to him and closing my eyes again. Before I knew it I was fast asleep.  



End file.
